


Marry In Haste

by sinistercinnamon



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Pepper, Because of Reasons, Extremis, Extremis Pepper Potts, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, I'm Sorry, Marriage of Convenience, Post-Iron Man 3, Pre-Thor (2011), Universe Alteration, accidentally setting Asgardians on fire, anyone who wants to continue is welcome to do so, reasons being I like Pepper being able to punch Asgardians through walls, story complete but not technically finished, who doesn't?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2192292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinistercinnamon/pseuds/sinistercinnamon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Believing his parents intend to marry him off to a Jotun, Loki is desperate to make himself ineligible by finding a wife of his own. Meanwhile, Pepper has reached the end of her tether with Tony Stark, and temporary marriage to an alien prince seems a great idea for putting some distance between them and showing that there's more to her than 'Iron Man's girlfriend'. They both get something out of the deal, secure in the knowledge that it's a temporary arrangement, and if the other party involved seems to be showing warmth and fondness? Well that's just good acting, and nothing more...</p><p>
  <i>[Please note: Due to an extended hiatus & not wanting to drag things out any further - but also not wanting to just abandon it - I've opted to wrap things up a little quicker than the summary suggests for the sake of closure. Apologies for not delivering on the premise. Anyone who wants more is more than welcome to take the premise & run with it.]</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE ABOUT TIMELINES: I'm doing a lot of fudging here, as it's obviously pre- _Thor_ , but I wanted Pepper to have Extremis because it's badass. And because, like Joss, I like seeing Asgardians knocked flying. So *handwaves* just assume the rest of the MCU happened but with someone other than Loki being their first mission, & some other Avenger replacing Thor on the team.

Loki walked quietly down the corridor towards the sitting room where he knew his parents were sharing a light lunch, trying to think of how to speak his concerns without coming off as bitter and jealous. He paused and sighed in frustration. Where was his silver-tongued reputation now?

 _'Father, you cannot make Thor king because he lacks knowledge!'_ Odin's reply would inevitably be that this was something that could only really be learned as you go. He couldn't know that Thor lacked a lot of the basic knowledge about the universe or Asgard itself that he was assumed to have because Loki had always helped Thor with his lessons (and by helped he meant 'did all the work for him').

 _'Father, you cannot make Thor king because he is arrogant!'_ No, not that either. Kings were expected to have a certain amount of arrogance - you had to think yourself worthy of ordering people around and expecting them to obey you after all. The problem was that Thor had too much of it, and that inevitably resulted in resentment when enough people felt slighted that they turned to each other and started to question why exactly they were listening to this man.

 _'Father, you cannot make Thor king because he is a foolish, arrogant buffoon with the manners of a tavern lout and the brains of a chicken, who treats his own brother like his personal servant!'_ Definitely not that.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed again, before resuming his steps towards his destination. He would admit that he was jealous, but his reaction to Thor's upcoming ascension to the throne stemmed from more than just that. The problem was that he was one of the few who spent enough time around Thor to know that his arrogance was more than just high spirits after a battle or drinking contest. Or that Thor could barely spell Jotunheim (no wonder he wanted to wipe it off the map). Or that his lack of respect for people who weren’t warriors was not merely youthful exuberance that would dissipate once he was given responsibility. Or that he refused to listen to advice even when the person giving it had a track record in being right about such things.

He could feel a headache coming on, and leaned against the wall next to the sitting room door, pressing his forehead against the smooth stone. The door had been left slightly ajar, probably by a careless servant, and Loki could hear his parents’ voices coming from inside. He let the sounds of their conversation drift over him, not really listening to what they were saying until he heard his own name mentioned, and turned towards the door with a start.

“Loki should know.” It was his mother speaking. He heard his father give a weary sigh in response.

“You are right. I have put this off long enough, but with Thor’s coronation I feel the time has come. The beginning of his reign will see people wondering if Asgard can maintain its position in the Nine Realms. It is important we strengthen our alliances and forge new ones where we can. And now he is grown, there is the issue of possible children to think of. I-“

A couple turned a corner nearby and walked down the hallway towards him. He jumped away from the door and pretended interest in a large tapestry depicting Odin’s victory in Jotunheim. It wasn’t particularly worthy of scrutiny and he may as well have held up a sign saying ‘Yes, I have been eavesdropping!’. Fortunately, the couple only had eyes for each other, and didn’t seem to even notice his presence, let alone his suspicious demeanour. He could scarcely hear anything from this new spot, but he did not want to risk attracting their attention by moving back to the doorway and he silently raged at the pair to _walk faster, by the Norns!_ as he tried to pick out the occasional word he could hear from his father’s speech.

“…alliance…Loki… Jotunheim… a union between realms…” Loki froze. Of course just at that moment the woman giggled loudly at something her paramour had just murmured to her, drowning out even the snippets he could hear from this spot. Mercifully they then stepped into another room down the hall, and it was safe for him to move closer to the door once again, in time to hear his mother speak.

“He will not take this well I think. Nor will Thor.”

“It doesn’t matter how they will react. It will not change anything. And such matters need to be settled before Thor is crowned.”

If his mother made a response to that then it was conveyed through facial expression, and there was a long silence, eventually broken by Odin.

“Did you not go to see a play last night? I seem to recall you mentioning it yesterday.”

“I did. It’s a shame you couldn’t have gone. I think you would have enjoyed it.”

“Ah, perhaps once the throne has been handed over to Thor I will have time for such things.”

“Ha! You know as well as I do that you will be hovering over him every moment.”

“You are probably right. But tell me about it anyway. Perhaps I can make time the next occasion those players come here.”

Loki tuned out his mother’s description of the performance, stepping away from the door and leaning against the wall. He tried to decipher the meaning behind the conversation. His parents had plans for him. Plans that he would not like. Plans that involved the forging of alliances. Children had been mentioned. The only thing he could think of was that they had arranged a marriage for him. Likely for both him and Thor, as they’d mentioned that neither of them would react well, and it would make little sense to marry the younger son off while leaving the elder, who should start on producing an heir as soon as possible.

But who with? His eyes caught on the monstrous Frost Giants on the tapestry, and he recalled his father’s mention of Jotunheim. Surely not? It’s true that the peace between the two realms was a tentative one, but his parents couldn’t be planning on reaffirming that peace by sacrificing him, could they?

He hastened back to his rooms, no longer caring about the hitherto urgent matter of his brother’s premature and sure to be disastrous rise to power. Once there he sank into a chair and put his head into his hands, considering the links between Asgard and the other realms and trying to work out what his parents might have in store for him.

It might not be Jotunheim. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions, as he had missed most of what his father had been saying. He could merely have been mentioning it as a possibility that had been rejected. And there was no guarantee that Laufey would agree, unless Odin agreed to return the Casket of Ancient Winters. He tried to reassure himself by thinking of other likely realms his parents would want a strong link with. But the obvious answer was any of them. All carried some advantages as an ally – either they were a valuable trading partner, or had a strong army that would be invaluable if Asgard needed support in the event of a war, or a possible enemy that needed to be kept close (in some cases, all the above).

All he could determine was that his parents were absolutely certain that neither of their sons would be happy at the news but that their opinion was irrelevant, and that Jotunheim was at least a possibility. Since they wouldn’t want to be seen to show favour to one realm in particular, he and Thor would probably not be married to ladies from the same realm. It was also a given that Thor would get the best candidate, which did not bode well for Loki if his parents were so sure that even Thor would not be pleased. Being shackled to a monstrous Jotun was looking more and more likely.

He felt the headache from before make a return, and stalked over to the desk where he mixed his potions and set about preparing something that might help. He absolutely did not want to be forced to marry someone against his will, especially as they were apparently repellent enough that resistance was expected.

He swallowed the vile-tasting concoction. Possibly he should have made more effort to find a lady himself. If he was already married his parents couldn’t force him into a match.

The glass fell from his hand and shattered on the floor. Of course! That was it! He would find some woman who wasn’t too objectionable and was willing to marry him at short notice. He was a prince of Asgard, and there was a universe of women to choose from. Surely he could find someone who was suitable and amenable to such an arrangement. He didn’t even have to love her – just to find her company tolerable and her looks anything above grotesquely ugly. He knew of several perfectly happy marriages based on less.

Absently he noticed the broken glass, and swept it up with his magic. What realm though? It couldn’t be Asgard, as his reputation was known well enough that he would waste valuable time convincing whatever woman he chose that no, this was not a prank. That’s if he could find a woman who didn’t have eyes only for his golden brother. Then of course there was the small snag that any marriage taking place on Asgard required permission from the King. Of course it was just a formality and didn’t come directly from the Allfather himself, but it would be just his luck if whichever junior scribe who was idly signing the paperwork caught the name on the application and decided that this was one that should be brought to Odin’s attention.

Where though? He needed to choose carefully, as if he was going to marry without caring too much about who he married beyond it being someone of his choice, he might as well consider the political benefits. It would also help matters if his parents approved of the match, especially for the girl concerned, whisked away from her own realm and family and thrown to the tender mercies of the Asgardian court. And since he didn’t know who – if anyone – they planned to wed Thor to, he risked picking someone from the same realm – or even family! - and creating a political headache for his parents.

Jotunheim was right out, as were Muspelheim and Niflheim. Svartalfheim was a desolate wasteland. He glanced over at a map of the Nine Realms that hung nearby on his wall and his eyes caught on a name: Midgard.

Midgard! It would be perfect! Asgard had had no dealings with the place in many centuries so there was a clear argument to be made for that being something that needed to change, and he was vaguely aware from occasional visits that they had moved on somewhat from the primitives that most Asgardians would remember – it was about time they took more interest in the world and how it was developing. It was only a matter of time before they advanced enough to start exploring the universe around them. And the other realms concerned themselves so little with the place that he wouldn’t have to worry about inflaming some rivalry or other.

Last but by no means least, Midgard was lowly enough that there was no way Odin would countenance a Midgardian bride for the mighty Thor, so there would be no worry about one realm being seen to get preferential treatment.

Their short lifespans were an issue of course, but there were means of extending it to the same as that of an Aesir. If they even wished to stay together for that long, that is – after all they only needed to stay married long enough to frustrate his parents’ plans. A decade or so together (maybe even less) and then they can part quite amicably and she can return to Midgard to enjoy a comfortable old age funded by his gratitude. By that time, if his parents still meant to go ahead with the arrangement then at least he’d have had time to figure out who they meant to tie him to and be able to plan accordingly.

So he knew where to start looking for his bride. Now he just needed to find her. And convince her to marry him right away, before Thor’s coronation in just over a month’s time. No problem.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, your eyes do not deceive you - it's an update!
> 
> So so sorry for disappearing for months after only a teaser chapter which only featured half of the pairing. Full explanation [on my tumblr](http://sinistercinnamon.tumblr.com/post/105252321666/explanation), but basically I dithered a little on working on the next chapter, & then spontaneously decided to move to the other end of the country because what the hell, & spent the next few months working long hours.
> 
> But here you are. Short chapter, but hopefully it's worth the wait.
> 
> Also, I think I may have come up with a name for this ship in the middle of posting this - Pepsicle. Is it so bad it's good, or just plain excruciatingly bad? Thoughts?

The mortals had indeed moved on and developed considerably. And they had also grown in numbers; Loki’s task was even harder than he’d imagined. He’d expected to show up in the region in which he and the other Asgardians had once visited, scout around for a likely prospective bride amongst their high families, who would surely be honoured at being chosen by one of the gods, and from there it would be a matter of choosing a candidate, assessing her suitability, and winning her over.

But he was faced with a more numerous population who had almost forgotten the beings they had once worshipped. And the royal families of the countries that had grown up in the area did not have any women of the right age who were not already courting. Loki was not about to tear apart a real relationship for the sake of a fake one. It was selfish, and would only make the ruse that much harder with the woman missing her beloved.

On the plus side, the structure of society seemed to have changed and the line between highborn and lowborn had blurred. Casting his net wider, he visited great libraries throughout Midgard, browsing biographies, flicking through glossy periodicals, and - after some help from a librarian - discovered something called the internet, which proved even more valuable to his search, enabling him to find all sorts of information about people with just a few clicks and keystrokes (though it did impair his efforts slightly after he discovered what a useful tool it was for mischief).

After a week, though, he was still no closer to finding a suitable bride. They were all too young or old (he would not touch a child, after all, and his parents would be not only unconvinced by him professing love for a crone, they would send him to the healers thinking he had run mad), or they were married, betrothed, or courting in some manner, or they were obviously stupid or annoying (the internet had been a most excellent tool in this – so many women who seemed elegant and refined in a photo, and proved to have the manners and intelligence of a donkey upon further investigation), or they were just… not right somehow, for reasons he could not name.

Walking into yet another library, he skimmed the shelf of periodicals, in the vain hope that one would feature someone of actual worth and not yet another woman with less personality than the paper she was featured on.

His eye was caught by an issue of Forbes with an attractive redhead in a white suit on the cover. " ** _PEPPER POTTS STIRS UP STARK_** ", it proclaimed. Intrigued, he picked it up and sat down to read the article.

She seemed perfect! Rather attractive, poised, of above average intelligence, determined enough to rise to power, a decent grasp of politics and courtly intrigue from negotiating business dealings and chairing meetings, and had enough power and influence that, though not highborn, she had achieved a suitable level of authority and influence to be considered a worthy match in terms of securing an alliance with Midgard, should his parents cite that as a prerequisite.

The only fly in the ointment was that it was made pretty clear she was being courted by Tony Stark, one of the richest men of the realm and one of its great heroes as ‘Iron Man’. It was evidently a well-known enough fact that it was mentioned off-handedly quite late in the article, after he had already begun to consider her as a prospect, and he found himself loath to discard her as he had so many others for this reason. He looked at the date of the magazine; it _was_ a few months old. Even the seemingly strongest relationships could fall apart in that time, and she was the most appealing prospect he had found, so he could at least investigate her further.

He moved over to the computers, securing a turn on one of them and looking up her name. Unfortunately, all sources agreed that she was still in a relationship with Stark. However, there was much mention of the couple having ups and downs, and rumours of quarrels and ill feeling, particularly after a recent incident where she had been abducted and held captive by an enemy of Stark’s, alongside her country’s commander. Photos taken in the immediate aftermath showed her half-dressed and looking somewhat battered.

It was hard to be sure, since even his brief time here had been long enough for him to learn that gossip presented in text form was no more official than gossip passed around Asgard’s marketplace, but there was a hopeful amount of consensus, and Tony Stark’s behaviour would try the patience of a healer.

Stark had several residences scattered around the world, but after some searching he located her in Stark Tower (if nothing else, the building suggested that there was something Stark definitely fell short in). As if the universe wished to prove his hopes true, he arrived in an atmosphere thick with antagonism.

“C’mon, Pep! I made you CEO so I wouldn’t have to bother running the company!”

The Lady Pepper looked close to tearing her rather lovely bright hair out. “You still need to show up to the occasional meet and greet! We need this Chinese contract, Tony! Do you know how long it took me to set this up?” She began pacing back and forth on shoes that Loki couldn’t understand how she could walk in. “At least Mr Hsu accepted my excuse that you’d been called away on Avengers business!”

Stark waved his glass vaguely in her direction from his position slouched in a chair. “There you go then! You fixed it!”

“Barely! And what happens the next time? And the time after that?”

Stark swigged the remaining liquid in his glass and set to pouring a new one from a nearby decanter. “I’ll make it next time, I promise.”

“You said that last time, Tony.” She sank down into an armchair, apparently exhausted now that her rage seemed to have spent itself, and put her head in her hands. “You can’t just dump stuff off on me all the time and avoid all responsibility! What happened to all that talk about a fresh start?”

“Are you going to lecture me about building more suits now?”

“No! No. God knows, I know you can never really give them up, and I understand. And I know that you save lives in the suit and the small part of me that does wish you would get rid of them is being selfish. Just so long as you’re not constantly tinkering away at them as an avoidance tactic, like before.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not, are you?”

He avoided her gaze, fixing yet another drink (when had he drunk the last one?). Good grief, he drank more than Thor!

She sighed, collapsing back against the chair cushions, eyes squeezed shut in frustration. “Tony, you know avoidance isn’t a good coping mechanism!” She sat up again, making a visible effort to collect herself, and gave him a concerned look. “I gave you a list of recommended therapists last week. Have you even looked at them? You said you felt much better after talking to Bruce, so you can’t pretend that it’s a load of hooey like you used to.”

“That’s different - I trust Bruce. I’d feel weird talking to some guy who’d be diagnosing me with who knows what.”

“You don’t even need to talk to an actual person! Bruce slept through your whole confession and you kept going; just talk to one of the robots.”

He slammed the glass onto the table. “Why do you keep pushing me like this?”

“Tony, you need help! I get that you’re trying to fight through it alone because you’re a superhero and you’re not supposed to be the one who needs saving, but life doesn’t work like that. I’m doing what I can, but I’m just not cut out for this!”

“Oh, so you’re abandoning me?!”

“That’s not what I meant! I’m just saying-”

He snorted. “Like you can find someone better than me anyway, Pep!”

“I- Wait, what?”

Stark seemed to realise he had crossed a line. He stood there opening and closing his mouth for a few moments, before collecting himself, and knocking back another drink. “You know what? I’m going down to the workshop. If you really wanna go, then now’s your chance.”

He grabbed the decanter, despite it being almost empty, and marched out of the room.

Loki jumped as a disembodied voice came from the ceiling. “Sir, I would advise-”

“Not you too! No. No advising. Off! Disable speech mode! Do not communicate with me unless it's Avengers business!”

Pepper seemed to unfreeze right after he’d gone. She stood up, and seemed about to go after him, before collapsing back down again, looking dazed. Then she seemed to focus. “I can’t believe… How dare he?”

This seemed the perfect opportunity. Loki briefly checked where Tony Stark was – it wouldn’t do for him to rush back in with apologies upon his lips as Loki was trying to win away his lady - and found him several floors below, surrounded by machine parts which he was wrestling with in a manner that suggested he was more intent on breaking them than fixing whatever they were for, while deafening sounds that were presumably meant to be music howled around the space.

When he returned to Lady Pepper, she was standing by the bar, apparently having decided to take a – very small – leaf out of Stark’s book.

Suddenly nervous, he found himself hesitating. He took a deep breath and fought to calm himself. This was ridiculous – she was just a mortal. If she declined his offer, he would simply resume his search; however fruitless it had been so far, there were a few billion women on this realm, and there must be some other suitable candidates.

He shook himself, firmly pushing away the inexplicable fears. This was it.

With a flash of light for show, he dropped his invisibility spell and bowed. “Greetings, Lady! I am Loki of Asgard and I come to you with an offer-”

The next thing he knew, he was lying in the next room, surrounded by pieces of rubble from the destroyed wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Tony fans. If it helps, he's just drunk & lashing out & he's going to feel really bad after he sobers up.
> 
> Next chapter: Finally Loki/Pepper interaction!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I AM NOT DEAD & NEITHER IS THIS STORY! :D
> 
> Sorry for the unplanned hiatus. I got a bit sidetracked for a few months with real life stuff, & when I tried to get back to it I had major writer's block on it, & any time I tried to work on it I got attacked by plot bunnies for completely different fics, so had to go off & work on those for a little bit while the inspiration was still strong. And then after so many months I didn't want to post a lone chapter & disappear again, so I wanted to wait until I had enough written that that I could post updates while working on the rest.
> 
> Also, my Pepper Potts Hot Toys figure arrived a few days ago & I am super happy about that. She’s in pride of place on my desk next to my Hot Toys Loki.

She'd been fuming the whole flight back from Beijing, but on the drive from the airport to the Tower, she fought to calm herself and dull the glowing that was making Happy throw her nervous looks in the rear view mirror. Tony had said he'd fixed things so she wouldn't explode, but she didn't want to take chances. Besides, it'd do no good to snap at him - he needed help, not hectoring. It was the same behaviour he'd fallen into a few months ago. She'd assumed that was over, but it was looking more and more like a temporary upswing.

She'd sensed trouble as soon as soon as she walked into the main area of the penthouse. He was drinking, which wasn't that unusual, but he was alone, and she suspected this wasn't his first glass. Fighting down the temptation to ask Jarvis - that would definitely escalate things and lead to another argument - she greeted him as normal and pretended that the sudden barrier she could feel between them didn't exist.

"Tony, you were supposed to be at that meeting. You promised you'd be there, and we really needed your presence." Maybe evoking some sort of company loyalty would help ease things, make it less personal.

He said nothing, pouring another drink.

"Tony, please! You can't just blow things off like this!"

“C’mon, Pep! I made you CEO so I wouldn’t have to bother running the company!”

She seethed with frustration. He name was still on the paperwork! He couldn't just walk away! Keeping her voice level with an ease borne of long practice, she attempted to reason with him. “You still need to show up to the occasional meet and greet! We need this Chinese contract, Tony! Do you know how long it took me to set this up?” She began pacing, unable to keep all her frustration hidden. “At least Mr Hsu accepted my excuse that you’d been called away on Avengers business!”

Slumped in a chair, the exact opposite of her manic energy, Tony waved a glass at her in a gesture that felt dismissive. “There you go then! You fixed it!”

 _Yes. I fixed it. I always do. That's what I'm here for, isn't it?_ “Barely! And what happens the next time? And the time after that?”

Tony finished the remaining whiskey in the glass and began pouring a new one. “I’ll make it next time, I promise.”

She almost snorted with derision but caught herself in time. “You said that last time, Tony.” She sank down into a nearby chair, exhausted with the conversation, and put her head in her hands, trying to remind herself this was worth it. “You can’t just dump stuff off on me all the time and avoid all responsibility! What happened to all that talk about a fresh start?”

“Are you going to lecture me about building more suits now?”

“No! No. God knows, I know you can never really give them up, and I understand. And I know that you save lives in the suit and the small part of me that does wish you would get rid of them is being selfish. Just so long as you’re not constantly tinkering away at them as an avoidance tactic, like before.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not, are you?”

He busied himself pouring another drink rather than answer, which was confirmation enough. She sighed, collapsing back in the chair, fighting to keep her calm. “Tony, you know avoidance isn’t a good coping mechanism!” Sitting up again, she took a deep breath, and let the concern she felt show on her face, hoping that might make him _see_. “I gave you a list of recommended therapists last week. Have you even looked at them? You said you felt much better after talking to Bruce, so you can’t pretend that it’s a load of hooey like you used to.”

“That’s different - I trust Bruce. I’d feel weird talking to some guy who’d be diagnosing me with who knows what.”

 _That's not what therapists are for!_ “You don’t even need to talk to an actual person! Bruce slept through your whole confession and you kept going; just talk to one of the robots.” _Please, just talk to someone, anyone, anything!_

He slammed the glass down. “Why do you keep pushing me like this?”

 _Because you need to see what you're doing to yourself, to me, to us!_ “Tony, you need help! I get that you’re trying to fight through it alone because you’re a superhero and you’re not supposed to be the one who needs saving, but life doesn’t work like that. I’m doing what I can, but I’m just not cut out for this!”

“Oh, so you’re abandoning me?!”

 _What the hell?_ “That’s not what I meant! I’m just saying-”

But he cut her off with a contemptuous snort. “Like you can find someone better than me anyway, Pep!”

Her response died in her throat. She could see by the look on his face that he realised, too late, what he'd said. But instead of apologising or taking it back, he knocked back another drink, his face hardening. “You know what? I’m going down to the workshop. If you really wanna go, then now’s your chance.”

He marched out of the room, taking the decanter with him. At least it was almost empty, so he couldn't drink himself to death down there.

Jarvis had wisely stayed out of it, letting her handle things, but now he tried to intervene. “Sir, I would advise-”

“Not you too! No. No advising. Off! Disable speech mode! Do not communicate with me unless it's Avengers business!”

She stood frozen for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few moments, before waking up enough to collapse back into the chair, too dazed to stand. She tried to process what had just happened. They'd argued during the past few months and even years after his rebirth as a superhero he still struggled to consider other people's feeling sometimes, but this was something else.

She was organised to a fault, and used to dealing with Tony's shifting moods, both in his cocky playboy days and his cocky superhero days (she could even tell the difference, though most people would refuse to believe there was one) and keeping track of him, but she had no idea how the conversation had gotten so out of hand. OK, he'd been drinking, but that wasn't unusual and he could usually handle himself. But somehow a discussion about his schedule had devolved into an argument. It was like in the old days when he'd ignore meetings to party with supermodels, except that at least then he'd just laughed things off instead of getting defensive and snappy. This was a new Tony Stark, and she wasn't sure she knew how to handle him. Pepper Potts, PA-turned-CEO, who had managed a spoiled capricious boss who'd seen off so many other PAs, survived explosions and attempted world takeovers, managed one of the world's biggest corporations, manoeuvred complex politics, gone through a painful transformation and death, and maintained her calm through it all, had finally met her match.

When she recovered enough of her thoughts to process what was going on and analyse her own thoughts, all she could feel was _anger_. How dare he? After all she'd done for him over the years! Fetching and carrying and organising his life and keeping his company running! And through it all, dealing with the fact that most people still saw Tony as the ultimate head of the company - hence the reason for this fight. She tried to tell herself he'd felt backed into a corner, but she was far too angry to care, and it was a meaningless excuse anyway; he'd been confronted multiple times with the consequences of his behaviours, and at this point it was just refusal to accept facts.

Deciding that she deserved something to pick her up, she walked over to the bar, grabbing a bottle at random and pouring a glass, heedless of portions and measures. The burn as it went down her throat woke her up and fuelled her anger even further.

She was still struggling to figure out what to do next, when there was a sudden flash of light and a figure appeared out of thin air. Startled, she reacted without thinking and blasted him so hard he went flying through the wall and into the next room.

She stood stock still for a moment, staring at the new hole in the wall (a small part of her mind totting up repair costs) trying to process what had just happened. It was the first time she'd really used her powers since the Mandarin incident; despite Tony's assurances, she'd seen too much of the aftermath of what happened when Extremis went wrong, and she'd seen various members of the Avengers looking at her and then at each other when they thought she couldn't see, and was scared of being asked to join. She’d never seen herself as any kind of hero, and the prospect scared her for reasons she couldn’t quite name - perhaps because it would mean accepting that she was no longer really human, and having to come to terms with what that meant. Was she ready to let go of who she used to be?

(Still, despite that reluctance, overhearing Tony tell Steve that he shouldn’t even think about bringing her on to the team had left her fuming. It wasn’t his decision!)

She felt exhilarated, and slightly scared how good it felt. She felt like she shouldn't enjoy something like this, that there was something inherently bad in violence as a solution to a problem (even as someone who had willingly signed up to work for a weapons developer). But the rush was amazing.

After the initial burst of adrenalin, she found herself frozen in place, the glow fading from her skin, wondering what to do next. Hesitation crept in. OK, he'd randomly invaded her space, was dressed in black, and something about the way he was speaking gave every sign he was about to launch into a monologue - three signs of a supervillain. But shouldn't she have waited a second to find out? And what if she got startled by someone jumping out and shouting 'boo!' as a prank? Oh god was this how Bruce felt all the time? And was it fair to just assume someone was a supervillain? She socialised with assassins and spies who variously scored at least two out of those three signs, and dated a guy who never shut up, after all...

He thoughts were interrupted by a groan from the next room, and her intruder staggered to his feet, looking stunned and covered in plaster dust, but uninjured. He looked around as if trying to see what had hit him, and a faint look of surprise - and was that _interest_? or was she imagining things? - crossed his face as his gaze landed on her and he saw the last shimmers of orange fade from her skin.

He stepped back through the hole and moved towards her, looking faintly amused. She pulled herself together. Whatever he was doing here, he was in her home, and she was not in the mood for dealing with yet another crazy person. She remained poised in her fighting stance, and let all her anger at tonight's events show in her voice.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my tower?" 12% hers, anyway. And it wasn't like Stark's name was on the side anymore, not after being renamed Avengers Tower. And speaking of them, where the hell were they when she needed them?

He bowed and made an elaborate gesture with his arms, and suddenly his clothing was clean again. "I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose. I assure you, I mean you no harm.”

 _Yeah, right_. She snorted derisively. “And you expect me to take your word for it? Even though you’re named after a mythical trickster god worshipped by the vikings? Not really a name that inspires confidence in your honesty.”

“I am not ‘named after’ him. That is me.”

“You expect me to believe that you're some kind of Norse god?”

“Indeed.” He actually looked put out that she didn't believe him. Dear god she actually found his little pout adorable. That was not good. She really hoped that was just an after-effect of the adrenalin.

“Loki, as in ‘God of Lies and Mischief Loki’?”

“Yes.”

This still sounded ridiculous to her, but there didn't seem to be much point in arguing, and he had somehow cleaned his clothes with just a gesture... “Right. Let’s just say I believe you. What are you doing here? What exactly is this "glorious purpose"?”

He bowed grandly and smirked. "A job offer... of sorts."

She should tell him to go away - every instinct she had screamed that he was trouble, but that smirk made her want to do things, and she could definitely do with a job change right about now.

That didn't mean she was going to throw caution totally to the wind though. "OK, let's take this outside, where there's less mess." _And where I can throw you off the edge if I need to, since you seem unharmed from a trip through a wall._

She grabbed a decanter at random and picked up a pair of empty glasses with her other hand, turned her back on him (just to show she could) and marched confidently out to the terrace, as if this was just a normal business meeting.

Stalking over to a table set near the edge (but not _too_ near) with a great view over the city, she slammed the glasses down and poured, not paying too much attention to exact measures - extremis made it hard for her to get drunk, and if he couldn't either then that was too bad. Judging by the colour, she'd managed to pick up absinthe, so if alcohol was his weak spot then she'd picked the right one.

She pushed a glass over to him. "So, talk."

He ignored the glass, instead clasping his hands behind his back.

“Whether you believe me or not, I am Loki, of Asgard. My kind came to your world many centuries ago, and were taken for gods by those we encountered, due to our greater strength, advanced technology, and magic, though some of the stories they told each other about us were exaggerated or untruths, and have no doubt grown more untrue in retellings.”

He began to pace, slightly. “I am in something of a bind. I require a wife at short notice in order to avoid an arranged marriage. Having searched thoroughly, I find you to be the most appealing and suitable candidate.” She opened her mouth to object, and he held up his hand to forestall her interruption. “Fear not. It is merely a marriage of convenience. I have no expectations of feelings or heirs or a lifelong bond or even consummation. The situation need only last a few years, long enough to convince my parents of the union and to get out of their plans for me, and merely requires a façade of companionship on your part. Then we shall part company and you can go on your merry way.”

 _This is some effort to get out of something._ "What's so bad about her?"

"I know not. I do not even know who she is - I merely overheard a conversation discussing it. My parents seem absolutely certain I will not be pleased however, which does not bode well. What is more, they noted that my elder brother would also be displeased, and since he is the favoured son and shortly to be crowned king, I have no doubt that he would get the pick of the litter, as it were. If even he would be dissatisfied, then… Well, you can imagine."

“And that’s all you have to go on?”

“If I wait until they reveal their plans, I will have no chance to find a way out of it.” 

"Why me?"

"Why not?"

"Don't dodge the question. There are several billion people on this planet, and god knows how many elsewhere, assuming you're not some crazy guy who thinks he's a god. But you picked me, out of a whole universe to choose from."

"Well, yes." He tilted his head to one side. "Do you truly think so little of yourself?"

She said nothing, folding her arms and waiting.

He sighed. "Seeking someone on Asgard would be a bad idea, as both the supposed relationship and the marriage itself would be subject to more scrutiny, so it was necessary to search elsewhere. Midgard was the best option as it is neither populated by monsters, nor a major enough player in the Nine Realms that I risk unwittingly inflaming some rivalry or alliance. That narrowed it down considerably."

"That's still out of a few billion."

"I repeat: do you truly think so little of yourself? You have many excellent qualities - you are intelligent, competent, not unattractive, have enough power and status that it would be considered an alliance, and in addition you seem to have something approximating magic, which will allow you to hold your own amongst people that are seen as gods to your kind. So yes, you seemed an apposite choice.”

It was flattering. It wasn’t like she was completely in denial about her qualities, but it was nice to hear them listed. And his offer was definitely interesting. But she wasn’t ready to let herself be sweet-talked into something by a stranger without question.

“And what’s in it for me?”

“Wealth, a title, immortality if you so desire, the chance to see other worlds, and to have those other worlds see you and by extension humanity as a whole, to advance the interests of your planet as you have done so for your company.” He grinned. “The chance to prove you are more than Stark’s woman.”

A spark of interest ignited within her, and she knew it showed in her eyes. He knew exactly how to play her, damn him. She wasn’t about to be won over so easily though.

"I can spot a few flaws in your plan. For a start, won't your parents be suspicious of you suddenly getting married out of nowhere right after they've arranged to marry you off to someone?"

He shrugged. "They have clearly done their best to keep this secret, and had I not walked past their sitting room at exactly the right moment I would have been none the wiser, so I doubt they would realise it is anything more than a coincidence. As far as they know, I am completely ignorant and will remain so until they unveil their plans in front of the whole court at my brother's coronation a few weeks hence. And while a sudden marriage might raise eyebrows, I have something of a reputation for both secrecy and mischief. Having a secret relationship and suddenly announcing it now would fit people's expectations of me."

"Coronation." She frowned. "Is your father dying?"

"No. He has merely deemed it time - prematurely, in my opinion, but I was not consulted on the matter - for Thor to ascend to the throne. Why, I know not - he is old but has years in him yet. Possibly he just feels a change at the helm is needed, or wishes to spend those remaining years in comfortable retirement, or simply wishes to reward the son considered 'worthy'." He clenches his fists, and her eyes note the movement.

"You don't like him."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. It is impossible to hate Thor, no matter how tiresome he can be. It is more that people like him so much, they feel he can do no wrong. They are nowhere near as generous towards me. And I include our esteemed father in that. I applied myself to learning statecraft and diplomacy, I am one of the best mages in all the realms, I am a master with knife and spear, and a skilled hunter. Yet I am lucky to get so much as a 'well done' for my efforts, and my slightest transgression is punished severely. While feasts are thrown in Thor's honour at the tiniest achievement and glaring faults are brushed aside. I feel as if I spend most of my life running to and fro calming crises and hurt feelings that Thor has caused in his arrogant blunderings, which are certain to become more spectacular and greater in number once he is crowned. I suspect you have some idea how frustrating that is."

She said nothing, but knew her face spoke volumes.

"On Asgard, the throne does not automatically go to the firstborn, yet there has never been any doubt as to who will sit upon it. I don't even _want_ the throne, but can you even imagine how it feels to never even be considered to have an equal chance, no matter what I do?"

He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "I love my brother dearly. But he is no king. Not yet, anyway."

"Maybe that's the point? Your father wants to give Thor his own rope to hang himself with?"

"That's a possibility. But why do nothing to correct his flaws? Or test him by giving him greater responsibilities but not actually handing over ultimate power? Asgard is the most powerful of the Nine Realms, its position comparable to that of your own United States. It sees itself as a protector, and the other realms as either enemies to be crushed or children to be kept in line, but which category you fall into can change in an instant, and the other realms are as resentful of Asgard’s arrogance as they are grateful for their support. It takes considerable skills of diplomacy - and outright lies - to convince them that Asgard values them and sees them as equals. It is not the sort of situation where you get to make catastrophic blunders without consequences." He shook his head. “Thor only sees the glory of battles won and the power that he has been promised almost from birth; not the careful work needed behind the scenes to repair damage, or how fragile that power is.”

There was silence for a moment, and she took advantage of it to consider the offer. She’d had a lot of job offers since becoming Tony’s PA, and she’d been on the receiving end of a lot of sales pitches, and this one certainly unique. It’d be accurate to describe it as ‘once in a lifetime’. 

She’d get the chance to visit a different world, be a representative of humanity to an alien race (probably several – a coronation was guaranteed to have foreign dignitaries), and just imagine the potential for making trade deals or promotion of cultural exchange! It would easily meet Tony’s challenge to find someone better (a god – or at least someone worshipped as one – beat someone who _thought_ he was god). And her 4-year-old self would have seen being a princess as the highest career goal possible.

That all assumed he was telling the truth though. She only had his word for all of this. He _had_ appeared out of thin air. But in a world of Enhanced and superheroes who even knew anymore. She could blast people though walls and heal just about any injury, and Rhodey was sure she could breathe fire if she wanted, seeing as Aldrich could. Most people would call that magic. 

But it was hard to come up with a motivation for such a weird lie. He didn't seem remotely hurt by being flung through a wall, and could either teleport or become invisible (maybe both), so he could probably snatch her pretty easily if he picked his moment well. And there were saner ways of tricking her into walking into his clutches if he wanted to avoid violence – wearing a smart suit and offering her a more normal job, approaching her at a business function and slipping something in her drink, or any number of other scenarios that made more sense and were less of a gamble than ‘show up in her home and tell her you’re a god’, which was so odd it didn't even factor on a scale of 'so weird nobody would make it up'.

Thinking about it, not being sure if it was for real was really the only con. OK, apart from the unknown dangers of being on another world. And the possibility that his parents wouldn’t buy the marriage. She could probably (hopefully) fight her way out of any trouble though, and really, what was she going to do instead? Get a new job that was exactly the same as her old job, but without an eccentric boss making things interesting? Join the Avengers and have to deal with Tony undermining her or trying to win her back (or both)? 

“Fine,” she said. “But how exactly are we going to pull off a sudden marriage or of the blue and make it seem real? What is our story?”

He grinned, pleased she’d agreed. “Our story is thus: I caught sight of you on one of my journeys through the realms. I watched you in secret for a while, and eventually made myself known. We saw each other in secret at first – myself because, as you mortals put it, that is how I roll, and you because you were torn about abandoning your previous relationship, even though it was in tatters. In the end we could deny it no longer and dove straight into marriage to make up for lost time. I’m sure people will also think that the timing is an effort to steal attention from my brother, so even if they suspect an ulterior motive, that will act as a convenient explanation.”

“They’ll think they’ve spotted the lie, and won’t notice that there’s more to it.”

“Indeed. Though you should be prepared for people attempting to subtly question you about the circumstances of the proposal.”

“I’ll try to come up with a suitably romantic proposal story.”

“Good.” He frowned and began to pace. “The other thing is the marriage itself. It needs to be somewhere that will allow it to go ahead quickly, and where we can be sure that there will be no questions asked. Yet at the same time it needs to have some degree of respectability (or at least _appear_ to), and not look too rushed. We want to appear spontaneous, not hasty. Alfheim would be ideal. Eloping there is considered romantic, and they don’t require any special application or waiting period. The ceremony does require a trio of witnesses however, which might prove an issue in our case.”

“I could probably find a few people who would help out there.”

“You know people who would vouch for a lie and keep quiet?”

“I know a few spies. They’d jump at the chance to visit another world and form links with a foreign ruling family, and they can keep a secret.” She paused a moment as a new idea occurred to her. “I can enlist their help in backing up our story – they’ll know exactly how to spread disinformation. It might be a good idea to leak the story to the media as well. It’ll look more like I planned it, and will help with our cover. Tony will probably try to tell people that I’d never met you before and that I married you right after leaving him, but people will just think that’s sour grapes. It’ll make it harder for your parents to interfere as well – they might think they can shut the whole thing down if only a few people know. But if everyone on – what did you call this place?”

“Midgard.”

“If everyone on Midgard is talking about it, and probably a few people on Alfheim too if we draw enough attention while we’re there, then it’ll be harder for them to justify disputing it.”

He grinned. “I like the way you think.”

“I just hope none of them are out on a mission or busy.” Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she navigated through her contacts until she found the number she wanted, and waited for the call to connect. “Hey, Natasha, I’ve got a favour to ask, and it’s a weird one…”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the main reason there was such a big delay in continuing the story. It was a bitch to write, because yeah they needed to get married & sort things out, but it just went on & on & on & was getting bogged down in details, & would have been as dull to read as it was to write. So then I decided to delete it & insert important details as flashbacks in the next chapter, but that was even worse because things kept stopping every few seconds so a character could reminisce about things that happened 5 minutes ago. So I decided to make poor Tony suffer for the sake of a little exposition.

Tony came slowly to wakefulness. He could hear his phone ringing from somewhere. Hilarious as it had seemed at the time, maybe Black Sabbath’s Iron Man wasn’t such a good choice after all. He ignored it; it could wait. It seemed to go on forever, but eventually it stopped…

There was a taste in his mouth that made him wonder if something had crawled in there and died while he was out. How much had he drank last night? And didn’t he used to be better about handling this crap? He didn’t have a headache though; that was something. He squinted blearily at a nearby screen: 10:28. Ugh. He was amazed that Jarvis hadn’t woken him earlier.

The phone stopped ringing. Finally. Then his text message alert went off. Then went off again. And again. Then his phone rang again. What the hell. Who wanted to get hold of him so bad? And who was bugging him so much when anyone who knew him knew that if they really wanted to get hold of him at this time of day and they were better off going through Pepper instead. Unless it was her, but she had her own ringtone, and anyway she’d just come down to yell at him, and…

Pepper… Pissed off Pepper… Memories came flooding in.

Shit. Shitshitshitshit.

He jumped up, and immediately fell over. Picking himself back up, he staggered towards the elevator and punched the button for the penthouse so hard his hand hurt.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

He burst out of the doors the moment they opened, still attempting to smooth down his clothes and make himself look presentable, even though it wouldn’t make a bit of difference.

"Shit. Pepper, I'm sorry, OK? I crossed a line. You gotta understand though-"

He stopped. Nobody there.

“PEPPER?” he yelled. No response.

Stumbling over towards the kitchen area, in desperate need of coffee, something caught his eye. A decanter half full of bright green liquid. He hadn’t been drinking that last night had he? He was sure he’d stuck to whisky… Then he saw what was hanging around the neck of the bottle.

The necklace. The necklace made from the shrapnel he’d had removed.

Oh no.

OK, no. Don’t panic. She wouldn’t actually leave him. She was just having a shower, that’s all, and for some reason had hung the necklace here instead of leaving it on the bathroom counter.

“Jarvis?” No response. “Jarvis! Speak to me, buddy!”

“Apologies, sir. You disabled my speech mode last night when I attempted to reason with you. I have been attempting other means of contact but they were unsuccessful.”

“What the hell happened? Where’s Pepper?”

“She has left you. You challenged her to find someone better and she accepted it with alacrity.”

He snorted derisively. “Better than me? Come one, what is he, some kind of god?”

“It would seem so. The Norse god of Mischief, to be precise.”

“This isn’t funny, J.”

“I am not attempting humour, sir, she has actually left you for a man identifying himself as Loki, god of mischief. The two of them got married last night.”

“Married?!”

“I’m afraid so. There was a journalist present at the ceremony, which took place on another world, and all of the guests have shared their impressions and photos on social media. Ms Potts has also publicly tendered her resignation with Stark Industries. So the internet is veritably awash with discussion and the tabloids are having what can only be described as a field day. Many of those calls and texts to your cellphone are from your PR assistant. You should probably get in touch before she has a breakdown, if that has not already occurred.”

“What?!”

A glass panel nearby darkened to opacity and became a screen, showing an Instagram post by Pepper, showing her in the gold feathered Alexander McQueen dress he’d bought for her, standing with a tall, dark-haired man wearing black and green. _Surprise! I’d like you all to meet my new husband, Loki of Asgard. I know this seems sudden to a lot of people, but he totally swept me off my feet, and what woman can say no when her prince charming proposes? Looking forward to a fresh start on a new world. #justmarried_

No sooner had he taken that in, when it was replaced by another post, made by Pepper on Stark Industries’ official Facebook page. _It’s been great working for Stark Industries, but it’s time for something new. I look forward to making a real difference as a representative of planet Earth in a wider universe, at the side of my new husband, Prince Loki of Asgard. -Pepper Potts, CEO_

“There is a hardcopy official resignation letter on the table underneath the decanter,” Jarvis informed him. “Ms Potts intends to work out her notice if that is possible.”

“So, she’ll still be around for a little while?”

“Possibly, sir. Though I believe she plans to work remotely.”

More posts appeared on the screen. Tweets and Facebook posts by guests, with more photos of the couple and their wedding. He recognised a few people.

“Happy? Happy was there?”

“Yes, sir. I believe Ms Potts asked him to be a witness, and he accepted.”

“I feel so betrayed right now. And that’s Christine Everhart! What’s she doing there?”

“Ms Potts invited her. She has written a substantial article for _The New York Times_.”

The social media posts disappeared, replaced by the newspaper’s website. A large photo of Pepper and Loki dominated the page. The headline screamed, _Wedding of the Millennium: Pepper Potts Marries Alien Prince_. The article opened, and Tony skimmed it, still not able to believe what was going on. According to the story the newlyweds gave, they’d met before – when? and how had she kept it from him? - but Tony’s behaviour became so unreasonable that she couldn’t stand it anymore, and accepted when Loki had proposed. They’d chosen to get married there and then, because they saw no reason to wait and were super in love and ugh.

The journalist had asked him about the myths ( _“Mostly untrue, I’m afraid. Stories passed around by the people of the time based on what little information they had, some of which may have contained nuggets of truth originally, but became exaggerated through repeated retellings and embellishments. And yes, that includes that vile slander about myself and a horse – one of my brother’s friends, thinking himself funny spread the tale.”_ ) and Asgard ( _“It is a shining realm, the protector of all within Yggdrasil. I look forward to seeing what can come of an alliance between our two worlds.”_ ).

The article was sprinkled with photos of the guests mingling with people who were either elves, or wearing really good prosthetics, Natasha holding a bouquet of gold roses that shimmered and seemed to glow slightly (apparently she’d caught it), some really alien-looking fauna, and several more photos of the newlyweds.

“And everyone’s seen this, right? It’s not just some weird thing that-”

The large television screen on the wall came alive. A woman was saying, “Welcome back! And on today’s show we’re discussing the wedding of the century and the revelation that the Vikings might have been right all along-”. A channel change, this time, CNN. A man was saying, “We’ve looked at samples of the plant life brought back by some of the guests and all the species are completely unknown to the field of botany-”. Another channel, “A spokesman for the North American Society of Norse Pagans said, ‘Who are the weirdos now, huh?’ Meanwhile, visitor numbers to the new Norse temple in Iceland have-” New channel, a group of women on couches, an image of Pepper in the gold dress on a screen behind them. “Normally I’d say a dress like that is waaay too much for a small, quiet wedding, even one officiated by elves, of all things, but she totally makes it work.” Another channel, a group of serious men and women in suits. “Senator, how do you think the revelation of other worlds will affect international relations? With conflicts ongoing in-”

Another screen came on, this one displaying a selection of tweets, Facebook statuses, and Instagram photos, and Tumblr posts featuring the hashtags #PepperPotts, #Loki, #Asgard, #Alfheim or #TonyStark. New posts appeared and pushed out older ones at such a rate that even his speed-reading skills weren’t up to the task and he couldn’t do more that catch a brief snippet of the occasional one.

“There are a large number of internet memes already,” Jarvis informed him helpfully. And then, “Sir, would you like me to put out a statement? Sir?”

The world had gone completely mad while he’d been passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- There really is a new [Norse temple in Iceland](http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-31437973). Or is going to be? I can only find articles announcing its construction, but I swear a friend of mine shared an article about it being completed. The Norse pagan organisation is totally made up though. I was going to use a real one, but there were a few too many accusations of white supremacy that came up in the google search I did, & the organisation behind the Norse temple [got hate mail for being pro-LGBT](http://wildhunt.org/2015/07/asatruarfelagid-threatened-with-vandalism-over-lgbtq-support.html) from organisations that included some in the US, & I didn't want to unwittingly endorse anyone shitty.
> 
> \- The dress is a real dress that exists. It's by Alexander McQueen.  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

Pepper staggered slightly on landing but managed to keep her footing. Loki had used his own paths between realms to take them and their guests to Alfheim and back, but he’d explained he wanted to use more official means of travel to get to Asgard – they wanted to be noticed; the Bifrost was a lot more jarring – whatever Loki’s pathways were, they’d felt almost like stepping through a short corridor, whereas this had been like being shot through a cannon. 

Looking around her, she gasped in amazement. They were in a gold domed room, and stretching out from a large entranceway there was a bridge which seemed to be made of glass that shimmered rainbow colours. In the distance, a city, and rising over it, a huge building that looked like giant golden organ pipes, glinting in the sunlight, even though the window behind her looked onto what seemed to be the night sky with stars and… were those nebulae or just clouds of some kind?

“So, what do you think?” asked her new husband.

“It’s very... shiny.”

A golden figure looming over them, that she’d assumed was a statue, suddenly spoke, interrupting whatever reply Loki was going to make. “Loki, you have brought a mortal to Asgard.”

He didn’t exactly sound friendly and welcoming.

“This mortal is my wife, and you shall treat her with respect.” His voice was cold and hard; she barely recognised the smooth-talking man who’d proposed to her. Mind you, he had good reason to be hostile. He turned to her, and in a friendlier tone, said, “Shall we go, wife, or would you rather we wait for someone to send horses?”

He offered her his arm, and she took it. “I’m fine with walking – let’s go!”

They moved off down the bridge together. Below it was water. Looking down for a closer look at the waves, she saw that they tumbled off into nothingness, a waterfall to nowhere. It was an impossible sight, and she fixed her gaze on the city ahead of them, not wanting to really think how it could work.

“So, was that the Gatekeeper you mentioned? Heimdall? Is he normally like that?”

“Yes, that was Heimdall. He has never liked me very much. Probably because I make a mockery of his duties. I can travel as I will, and hide myself and anyone I wish from his all-seeing gaze. Then again, he didn’t seem to like me even before I learned to do that.”

“He didn’t seem to like me much either.”

“The inhabitants of Midgard are rather looked down on. Short-lived and numerous, you’re considered little more than children who only gave Asgardians their due by proclaiming us to be gods, worthy of benevolent protection at best, outright contempt at worst. The only reason Midgardians aren’t considered the lowest of the low is that the Jotun take that title. But then again, perhaps the hate Asgard bears for them conveys more respect than indifference does.”

“Oh lovely.”

“Do not worry. I have every confidence you can win them over. I chose you very carefully.”

“Thanks, I guess. And Jotun?”

“Frost giants. They live on the realm of Jotunheim. They are monsters, repulsive and bestial, who hate everything. They attempted to invade Midgard once, long ago, and were defeated by Odin. Our victory over them ensured peace, but it has been a fragile and tense one, only guaranteed because we took their power from them. Hitherto, anyway. The conversation I overheard where I learned of the intention to marry me off mentioned Jotunheim and reaffirming peace, and I have a horrible feeling that Odin intends to make the peace a surer one by shackling me to a monster, and that is not a prospect I am willing to go along with, inter-realm peace be damned.”

She’d gone into this knowing it was fake, so she was surprised to feel hurt by this. “And I’m at least preferable to a monster? Good to know.”

“Don’t be like that. I could have chosen absolutely anyone throughout the realms if I’d merely wanted to bind myself to something preferable to a Jotun. You have no idea how horrifying the prospect of finding yourself married to one would be.” He shuddered. “I chose to be a little more discerning than that, however, looking for someone worthy of being a princess of Asgard, with the ability to handle all that such a role entailed. Partly for my own sake, but also because my parents will be annoyed enough at me foiling their plans, so I might as well make it harder for them to object.”

She nodded, not sure what to say to that. She was saved by having to come up with something by a party approaching them on horseback. Three guards, impressive in burnished gold armour, riding fierce-looking white horses, with a riderless horse trailing behind. The group stopped in front of them.

“My prince,” said the guard riding in the lead. “Your parents have seen that you have returned, and have summoned you to greet you.”

“He means, my parents have heard of my sudden marriage and are demanding an explanation,” he said to her, too quietly for the guards to hear. Louder, “Very well, I shan’t disappoint. I am sure they are keen to meet my new wife. But there seems to be no horse provided for her. Is she supposed to run behind us?”

The last part was snapped in an angry tone of voice, and Pepper, not wanting a confrontation on a narrow strip above an ocean flowing to nowhere, stepped in. “It’s fine. I can’t ride in this dress anyway, unless I rode side-saddle or something, which I don’t think I could do. I’ll just get up behind you and hang on.”

He still looked a little pissed, but he nodded, and she resisted a sigh of relief. He mounted the horse, and pulled her up as if she weighed nothing, seating her in front of him, in his lap. As soon as they were sure she was securely seated, he rode off.

She’d ridden a horse before, but this felt different. She was sitting in his lap, with his arms around her and his face right by hers, and it was an extremely intimate position. It was her first time being so close to him, and she felt her heart beat faster. Nervousness? Excitement? Adrenaline? Or something else? She tried to take in the view, as it moved past, but there was too much distraction – the feel of his body against hers, his breath on her face, his arms encircling her.

It was almost a surprise when they stopped, and she realised they’d arrived in a yard without her noticing. Loki helped her down and then jumped down after her. Someone came and led away the horses, but Pepper was too busy looking around to pay much attention, getting her first look at Asgard from close up.

They were in a castle yard, carved stone columns and arches surrounded them on all sides, with people passing through. More guards, some ladies in colourful flowing robe-like dresses, some people in rougher-looking clothes that she guessed were servants or maybe workmen. All of them turned to look at her, taking in the new arrival with curious gazes. Pepper tried not to show her nervousness. _This is just another business meeting. I’m in the lobby of another company’s headquarters, that’s all. No big deal. You can do this._

She was now really glad she’d let him talk her into wearing the gold feathered McQueen dress. She’d thought it way too much for a quiet wedding in a small elven village, and definitely a little ostentatious for meeting the parents afterwards, but he’d insisted it was perfect, and that she looked like a queen.

She drew herself up to her full height, looking around to meet their stares. Their guard detail were already waiting by one of the entrances, and Loki offered her his arm again. “Shall we venture into the dragon’s den, wife?”

“Of course, husband. Lead on.”

************************

They walked through a maze of corridors, and Pepper hoped like hell that Loki had some kind of magic spell to help her find her way around, or she’d never get anywhere – or certainly never anywhere she wanted to go.

The whole place seemed both ancient and luxurious, all intricate carvings and beautiful tapestries, and even after a career working around rich people, she’d never seen so much gold in her life. The corridors were populated by a huge variety of people, and everyone they passed stared and whispered; Pepper felt her nerves rising again. _What was I thinking? I am so completely out of my depth here!_

A huge, heavily-muscled blond guy suddenly stepped out of a side corridor and barred their way. He glared at her briefly before turning to Loki. “Loki! What have you done? This goes far beyond your usual tricks! They say you have married a mortal, or all the things! Surely this can’t be true?”

“It is indeed true. This is the Lady Virginia, known as Pepper. She is my wife.”

“What nonsense is this? You can’t be serious! Were you drunk?” _Who the hell did this guy think he was?_

“I was not drunk. I thought long and hard about it and I made my choice.”

“But a mortal, Loki! You could have chosen any woman in Asgard, yet you choose a mortal – you might as well have married a goat, and at least a goat is a useful creature.” He was laughing, obviously thinking he was the peak of wit, and Pepper snapped. After being on edge for so long from the nerves, the tension within her coalesced into anger. 

Stepping forward, she snapped, “How’s this for ‘useful’, asshole!” and punched him. Hard.

He went flying backwards, smashing through a wall and landing in the room beyond, and some part of Pepper wondered what the hell these guys were made of.

She came back to her senses, suddenly realising what she’d just done. Staring round at the shocked faces, she said the first thing that came into her head. “Um, sorry about the wall.”

Loki laughed and took her arm again. He called through the hole, “I believe I chose perfectly well, brother.”

She stared at him, aghast. “That was your brother? Oh shit!”

“Do not worry. He deserved it. It’s about time someone punched him.”

************************

After what seemed like miles of corridors and multiple flights of stairs, they arrived at a set of large, ornate gold doors. As the party approached, they swung open on their own. The guards hung back, waiting outside as she and Loki entered the room.

Well, maybe room was putting it mildly. It was a vast hall with a high ceiling supported by a forest of huge columns, the golden walls reflecting flicking torchlight, highlighting intricate carvings. At the far end was a large golden throne. They walked down a central aisle towards it, Pepper wondering if there’d be more horses dispatched to carry them, as the distance seemed greater than what they’d travelled to get there. 

As they approached, she got her first look at her new father-in-law. Seated on the large, wide throne was a white-haired, bearded old man, with one eye covered by a gold patch which didn’t seem to have any straps ( _How does it stay on?_ she wondered), and though they were indoors and it didn’t seem likely there’d be any trouble, he was wearing armour. He was glaring at them as if they were his enemies. Loki stopped at the bottom of the steps leading up to the throne, and inclined his head in greeting. “Father.”

Not sure what she was supposed to do – bow? curtsey? salute? – she settled for a quick bob and a tilt of her head.

“What is the meaning of this madness?”

“If you mean my matrimonial state, I would think it should be obvious. I met and courted a woman. I decided to marry her, and not seeing any reason to waste or give anyone a chance to voice the inevitable objections, I did so immediately.”

“You married a mortal! And you compound your foolishness by bringing her to Asgard, where she does not belong! This is exactly the sort of behaviour I expect of you.”

She seethed internally at the contempt in his voice, but kept her temper; she’d already punched out the soon-to-be-king, and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to insult his father right after, however much of a dick he was being.

“I believe I chose well. Midgard is advancing and they will soon begin to properly explore the universe around them. It is about time they were brought into the Nine Realms properly, rather than ignored and left isolated until they stumble into one of the less savoury races. An alliance would ensure our two realms are on friendly terms for when they’re finally able to take their place in the universe. The Lady Pepper has some status on her world, is intelligent and competent, possesses diplomatic skills and great strength; she is a worthy Princess of Asgard.” His voice turned scathing. “Or would you rather I shackle myself to a Jotun? Is a monster better than a mortal?”

Odin’s eye twitched at that. “I should dissolve this marriage instantly and send her back to where she belongs.”

Loki stared back at him, challengingly. “You could, but news has already spread on Alfheim, Midgard and Asgard, and questions would be raised if you did so. It wouldn’t do to make the House of Odin appear disordered on the eve of a handover of power.”

She could practically hear Odin grinding his teeth in frustration, and hoped that the potential of a PR disaster would really work.

“Is she pregnant?”

“No, I am not!”

He glared at her, obviously not happy that she’d spoken up.

“You. Do not speak to me. Do not even open your mouth in my presence!”

He turned back to his son, ignoring her again. _Don’t open my mouth, huh? Let’s see if Rhodey is right…_ She gathered up all the anger and resentment she’d built up from enduring the condescending stares on her way here, and being talked about like she wasn’t even there, and exhaled. A jet of flame emerged. She’d done her best to direct it slightly to one side, onto a gold lion statue, but not having done this before, she underestimated the size of the flame, and the edge of it caught Odin, and the edge of his cloak was set alight.

He quickly stood up trying to put out the flames, and a pair of guards who’d been lurking at each side of the throne leapt forward to help extinguish their king. She heard a chuckle from beside her at the sight. Fortunately, it was easily put out, and he turned and glared at Pepper; Loki shifted to stand slightly in front of her, not that it would probably help, but she appreciated the thought.

“You-” Odin started.

“Loki!” interrupted a voice from one side. “I’d heard you had returned.”

A woman with long, reddish-gold hair piled in an elaborate style on top of her head stepped forward from a side passage and walked towards them.

“Mother,” said Loki. “Please allow me to introduce my new wife, the Lady Pepper, of Midgard. Pepper, meet my mother, Queen Frigga.”

Again, Pepper wasn’t sure what form of greeting was appropriate, especially as she’d just set the woman’s husband on fire, and smiled nervously, uncertain what was going to happen.

But Frigga stepped forward and embraced her. “Oh, this is wonderful! I’ve been looking forward to this for so long. I was starting to think I should arrange it myself. Really, Loki, why did you not tell me you were courting someone?” She gave him a severe look. “Or invite me to the ceremony?”

Loki shuffled his feet awkwardly and seemed to shrink in on himself, but said nothing.

“Well, never mind. We must have a feast to celebrate. Now,” she stepped between them and grasped their arms, leading them away. “You must tell me everything.”

“Frigga! She set me on fire!” Odin bellowed after them.

She rolled her eyes and called over her shoulder, “Oh don’t be so dramatic, dear. You had worse when Thor was learning how to call lightning with Mjolnir.”

And ignoring her fuming - and still slightly smoking – husband, she led the two of them away.

************************

Frigga was wonderful and warm and welcoming, and dealing with her was more nerve-wracking than dealing with Odin. She was genuinely interested and asked all sorts of questions. This was the first real test of the deception, and lying to her felt terrible, as she seemed genuinely happy with her son’s marriage. She could picture Frigga’s disappointed face when they eventually announced their divorce and it was all she could do to keep smiling as Loki related the story of how they’d met, hastily figured out as she’d packed.

Eventually they reached the doors to Loki’s rooms, and Frigga left, promising to see them later at the feast. The moment they entered and the door closed behind them, Pepper sagged, suddenly realising how exhausted she was. 

It had been evening when Loki had shown up with this insane idea that she’d agreed to, and late night by the time they’d left earth, and she’d flown back from China that day, so right now she wanted to sleep forever. But there seemed to be some sort of time difference between realms – it was late afternoon here, by the looks of things, so sleep would have to wait. _Does Asgard have coffee?_

Loki evidently disagreed. “You should rest.”

“No, it’s OK, I’ve pulled long days before. I can handle a dinner. Do you guys have coffee here?”

“Regrettably not. And I think you’re underestimating Asgard’s capacity for celebration. Stark may have thrown some extravagant parties, but this will be something else entirely. There will be multiple courses, large amounts of alcohol - and consequent drunkenness - wild dancing, speeches, and so on. It will go on all night, and as the guests of honour we will be expected to stay several hours or risk looking rude. I strongly advise using the intervening hours to sleep.”

She was tempted to argue. She’d handled some pretty wild parties while jetlagged and on limited sleep, and she really should use the time to learn as much as she could about Asgard – they’d barely had a chance to talk, and most of their discussion had been about establishing their cover; most of what she had learned had been from Loki talking to the wedding guests, and a vague description of the court, which had seemed enough at the time, but now she realised left her horribly unprepared (and she really hated to go into anything unprepared). But it had been a really long day and it wasn’t like she had Jarvis as backup.

She let Loki lead her through another door into a bedroom containing the biggest bed she’d ever seen, draped with elaborate green and gold sheets and curtains. He sat her down on the edge of it, and waved his hands, the large suitcase she’d packed her stuff in appearing in front of him.

“You should probably change into something more comfortable for sleeping in. I shall wake you in enough time for you to redress.”

He nodded, respectfully, which somehow seemed oddly formal, considering their relationship, and withdrew back into the other room to give her privacy. She carefully took off the dress and draped it over a chair, then changed into her pyjamas.

Getting into bed, she realised that she’d have to share this space with him, and the formality he’d just treated her with seemed even more jarring considering how close they’d be. They’d be living together as husband and wife for years. Wouldn’t it be awkward being around each other all the time while keeping themselves separate? Or did she want to keep that formality, that distance? She needed to remember that this was all just a lie, and getting to involved would probably be a really bad idea. Then again, she was pretty good at those.

Thinking on this, she fell asleep faster than she thought she would.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup, bitches. Long time, no update.
> 
> OK, so, change of plan. I've slacked off on updating this thing (long story - life, writer's block, commitments, stuff), & what with having to push myself to complete another abandoned fic & how I have a bunch of fics I wanna write, & sequels to some other fics I've lowkey committed to, etc, I've kinda lost inspiration for this fic, which hurts to admit, but there it is. I could probably push myself to find it again, but... Well we have a few options here.
> 
> Option 1: Follow the original plan of a super slow burn narrative with lots of misunderstandings & angst with a zillion chapters as these two bozos dance around each other, with careful plotting & character development & cultural background needed, plus figuring out how to work in the events of Thor, which means each chapter will take forever, inevitably hobbled by writer's block, distractions from other fic & real life, slow updates, frustration, & resulting in hatred & resentment of the whole damn mess.
> 
> Option 2: Give up & tag the fic as abandoned.
> 
> -OR- 
> 
> Option 3: Super quick burn where we cut to the chase so suddenly yous get whiplash.
> 
> I went with the third option. Fasten your seatbelts, guys.

No-one would have been able to tell that the feast was thrown together at the last minute. Asgard was so used to throwing feasts at the slightest excuse that it had the matter down to an art, and the only possible hitch was making sure enough supplies were able to be delivered in time. Though that was rarely a problem except in the most exceptional of circumstances.

Usually, Loki preferred to stay out of the way at these things, lurking in his brother’s shadow and observing those around him. Occasionally he might be called upon by his brother for a contribution to one of his epic adventure stories (funnily enough, he was always called upon to chime in with how amazing his brother had been, but something like giving details on some tricky bit of magic that had been instrumental in the whole thing? No.), but usually he was left alone to eat in as much pease as could be had at one of these events.

If he was particularly bored, he might cast a few enchantments around (switching the food on people’s plates perhaps, or sending a morsel of food flying into the back of someone’s head to initiate a fight between them and the apparent culprit, and so on) in order to kick off some entertainment.

Either way, he tended to avoid the spotlight, preferring to cast his mischief in quiet. For all he wanted some sort of notice, demanding it seemed pathetic, especially through some loud display while people stuffed their faces all around him.

Now, though? He and his new wife were the focus of everyone there. Volstagg was even seen to pay attention to something other than the contents of his plate. And he revelled in every moment.

As far as he could tell, Pepper was in her element, her experience with hosting feasts on behalf of Stark giving her extensive practice at dealing with guests and being the focus of so many eyes. She also knew how to converse without actually saying anything, her replies to any questions about their relationship apparently being extensive and detailed, until you picked them apart and realise she had actually said nothing.

He had barely taken his eyes off her the whole time, so enraptured by her performance.

Yes, he had chosen well. She was wonderful at pretending to be his.

Why did that thought hurt so much?

************************

Pepper hated to admit it, but Loki had been right when he’d suggested she get some sleep before the feast. Tony had thrown some wild parties, and some of them had gone on for days at a time. But nobody had actually expected her to be not only present throughout, but constantly the focus. She had usually only needed to make her presence known, network and chit-chat a little, and then back off, allowing Tony to run things, checking in occasionally to show her face and make sure things weren’t getting totally out of hand (at least by the usual standards of Stark parties anyway, where the phrase ‘out of hand’ had little to no meaning), and trusting JARVIS to let her know if anyone had died (or was likely to).

If you asked anyone later, they’d all say that Pepper had been there through the whole event, and had been a most attentive hostess. But if you’d actually stopped the party and asked where Pepper was, there was every chance she’d be in another room, shoes off and rubbing her feet, taking just a few minutes to herself. Or making sure the staff were performing adequately, which was still technically a hostess duty, but did give her a break from being an actual part of the party.

She had underestimated how draining it was to be 100% present for a long event. A very long event. It had gone on for hours and there was no end in sight. And people kept toasting her constantly, which required her to acknowledge it, and requesting that Loki retell the story of her throwing their crown prince through a wall, which he was happy to oblige, much to his brother’s annoyance and her embarrassment

She’d donned the same dress, since while she’d brought some of her impressive clothes, she’d underestimated just how much Asgard loved ostentatiousness. Once she’d seen what they wore as normal clothes, she realised the elegant-but-understated dresses she’d packed would not cut it for a huge feast. She just had to hope that wearing the same outfit twice wasn’t a social no-no here.

She made a mental note to scope out some designers and commission some more extravagant outfits. A mix of Asgardian and Earth ( _Midgardian_ , she corrected herself) couturiers was probably the best. Loki had presented some magical means of not only powering her electronic devices, but also connecting them to a network. She had no idea how that was even remotely possible – surely even magic had rules, and this didn’t seem to fit any kind of logic no matter how she tried to process it. But somehow, she had wifi, and she’d already been able to check her emails, though it would take her a while to actually go through them and reply to anything important. She would check out her options tomorrow.

There were several missed calls on her phone, most from Tony. She’d leave that for a while.

She’d caught Odin and Frigga, who were seated separately to everyone else, giving each other looks throughout, and wondered about it. She wanted to ask Loki about it, but he didn’t give any obvious sign that he’d noticed, and it seemed a weird thing to ask, and she wondered if she was maybe imagining it.

She hoped they weren’t planning on intervening and forcing a divorce. Surely they’d have done that before the feast though? And Frigga had seemed sincere in her enthusiasm for her son’s sudden marriage. Best put it out of her mind for now. It might be nothing to do with her or Loki. Perhaps this was normal behaviour for them?

Speaking of her husband, he seemed to be having a great time, the life of the party, but unlike Tony, he didn’t hog the spotlight, turning to her for her opinion and input on things, including her in conversations, and so on. He’d even encouraged her a few times when people refused to believe what she could do (though she’d declined all their requests for demonstrations until some guy called Fandral got a little too flirty and she set his food on fire, singing his goatee). It was actually a shame none of it was real. Whoever he did end up marrying properly when this was all over, would be a very lucky woman.

Even with her new abilities and powers, she felt strain from having to perform for so long. She was definitely going to arrange to import coffee.

Eventually though, things seemed to be winding down. This might be a different world, with a different culture, but her practiced eyes spotted the signs, the people at the more distant tables, obviously lower in status and therefore more likely to have work to get up for, slipping away, people nodding off and slumping over the table they were at, the musicians providing the musical accompaniment switching to something more laid back than what they’d been playing before – obviously the Asgardian equivalent of chillout music.

The big clue though, was Frigga and Odin. The feast might have been held in her and Loki’s honour, and they were the main focus, but the King and Queen were obviously in charge, and their exit kicked off an exodus, as more people began to get up and leave.

Plenty of people remained, but Pepper was not fooled. These were the hardcore partiers, the ones who would keep going until either the alcohol ran out, their livers gave up, or you forcibly kicked them out – whichever happened first.

She turned to Loki, and he nodded, having noted the same things she had, and realised what she was thinking. They could now leave without looking rude.

Not that that meant their exit was a painless one. They were subject to a gauntlet of knowing looks and outright enthusiastic ‘advice’ for the night ahead.

As they walked back to his (their) rooms, they were approached by a guard, instructing them that they’d been summoned to his parents’ chambers. Pepper wondered if this was some sort of Asgardian wedding night tradition, and prayed it wasn’t some weird voyeuristic ‘wedding night sex must be witness by a third party’ tradition or similar, but the surprise on Loki’s face told her it wasn’t.

The worry that the ruse has been discovered was nowhere near enough to squash the relief at knowing it wasn’t some sort of sex thing.

At least it wasn’t until they actually arrived and were admitted to the royal chambers to find both King and Queen seated and looking deadly serious. This definitely looked like trouble, and she linked her arm through Loki’s, wanting to provide a united front. It couldn’t hurt.

************************

When the guard related the summons to his parents’ chambers, Loki felt a stab of panic. He’d noticed them exchanging strange looks at a few moments during the feast and wondered at it. Has his plan been uncovered so easily? When they were ushered into his parents’ presence, it certainly seemed that way.

Then he noticed the Casket of Ancient Winters sitting on the table between them, and there was a feeling of fear, and also confusion, added to his worry. Pepper linked her arm with his, and he found that gave him a boost of strength.

“Father, mother. What is going on?” He was proud that his voice sounded calm.

His mother spoke first. “Both of you should sit down.”

Now Loki was _really_ concerned, both by the request and the tone of sympathy. If his fake marriage had been discovered, surely he would have been expected to remain standing, to be berated without the luxury of even basic courtesy, and he would certainly not be spoken to as if someone had died. Had whoever he’d spurned declared war?

There was silence again, and then his mother spoke once more. “There’s something you should know. Something we should have told you years ago.” She shot a glance at her husband. “But someone counselled waiting.”

Odin glared at her. “I wanted to wait until the right moment.”

She snorted, clearly not putting much stock in that answer.

He glowered at her, but after a moment continued, “I admit that I perhaps delayed longer than I should have. But whatever mistakes I made in taking so long, I had made the decision to tell you, finally, when Thor was crowned. Although current circumstances have brought that forward slightly.”

Loki froze. This was what they’d been talking about when he’d overheard them. But the strange tension in their expressions and body language suggested something more serious than a diplomatic issue caused by him wrecking a betrothal. Even if her Realm had declared war, he would expect anger more than anything else, either at him for wrecking such carefully-laid plans, or the Realm in question for challenging the might of Asgard. And why was the Casket here?

What by Yggdrasil was it about?

The two of them looked at each other for a long moment, each seemingly about to say something, and then stopping.

“Loki, your father and I love you very much. You have to know that.”

He was starting to feel real terror now. Whatever it was, it was bad. He felt Pepper squeeze his hand. “What is it? Spit it out.”

Odin now spoke. “You remember what I told you about the end of the war with Jotunheim?”

“Yes, yes. You defeated them, marched into the temple and took the Casket of Ancient Winters as your prize.” _What does this have to do with anything?_ And then, slow, horrifying realisation dawns. The mention of Jotunheim. The speculation that neither he nor Thor would be happy. The keenness to have it established for an event like a Coronation, something where lineage would be important. This wasn’t about an arranged marriage. It never had been.

“The Casket wasn’t the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?”

Odin looked weary as he answered. “No. In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple and I found a baby. Small for a giant's offspring. Abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son.”

"Laufey's son,” Loki repeats, stunned.

“Yes.”

None of this made sense. “Why? You were knee-deep in Jotun blood, why would you take me?”

"You were an innocent child.” As if that was an explanation. No, not from Odin. There was something more. There always was.

“No. You took me for a purpose. What was it?” His voice rises to a shout. “ _Tell me!_ ”

“I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day. Bring about an alliance, bring about permanent peace. Through you.”

“What?”

"But those plans no longer matter.” _'You no longer matter,’_ Loki heard.

"So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me.” He’d always felt like some sort of afterthought, even beyond the reality of being a second prince in a royal household, where one was only ever going to end up as a backup plan – the heir and the spare, as the wags put it. Now he knew why.

"Why do you twist my words?”

“You could have told me what I was from the beginning, why didn't you? And don’t repeat that nonsense about _waiting for the right moment_.”

“You're my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth.”

"Because I'm the monster parents tell their children about at night?”

"No, no.”

Angry at this weak denial, offered by a man who’d always seemed commanding to him, but was now tucked in on himself, looking weak and defeated, Loki rose from his chair, stepped forward and placed both his hands on the Casket. The Jotun magicks that bound it were more than enough to tear through the illusion placed upon him. The one he’d worn unknowingly his whole life.

He stared the man down, glaring with eyes that he knew must now be blood red. “You know, it all makes sense now! Why you favoured Thor all these years! Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!”

“Loki!” Frigga finally interjected. She’d sat quietly as Odin had explained, letting him handle things, but now she spoke. “He kept the truth from you so that you would never feel different. You are our son, Loki, and we, your family.”

As if that could magically fix everything! As if he’d ever felt part of this family! As if he’d never felt different.

“As your father says, we were finally going to tell you when Thor was crowned, but with your marriage, I felt it was important to bring it up now, due to the possibility of children. It’s a secret that has already been kept for too long, and now it may affect others, it seems right to put all our cards on the table.”

They’re talking about the marriage, Loki realises. And then, _Oh. Pepper! Oh, what have I done? I’ve shackled her to a monster. Nothing I can offer her will be able to compensate her for that!_

As if responding to his thoughts, Pepper moved gracefully forward, placing her hand back on his arm. “This has been so lovely, and I know you all have so much to talk about, but I am exhausted right now. And I just can’t remember the way back to our rooms.”

As excuses go, it was a flimsy one. She could easily have asked a guard or a servant for directions. And despite the calmness of her voice, the glow of her power was swirling and shifting beneath her skin, still only a soft glow, but evidence of her agitation nonetheless. But however obvious the diffusing tactic is, it’s more than welcome. Loki felt as if he has fallen apart and pieces of him scattered everywhere, and however badly Odin and Frigga expected this discussion to go, it’s clear they underestimated just how badly he’d take it.

Loki allowed himself to be led out, knowing the night had yet more uncomfortable conversations in store.

“Just a moment,” Frigga called from behind them as they reached the door, Pepper’s hand still on his arm, and they turned to look back at her as she rose to her feet and approached them. _What now?_

“You’ll be needing this.” She reached into a pocket of her dress and pulled out a beautiful, perfect golden apple. She smiled and pressed it into Pepper’s free hand. “Welcome to the family, daughter.”

Pepper took it politely, and with appropriate deference, and then they left.

************************

The whole situation felt a little unreal to her. She knew, from what little Loki had said on the subject, and the tense atmosphere in the room, that this was something of a big deal. It’s not as if the ‘Surprise! You’re adopted!’ conversation wasn’t a big deal anyway, but this was a royal family. And they’ve just told him his whole life is a lie, and that he’s not only not from the same biological family, he’s not even from the same species.

She’d stood by and said nothing while Odin explained and gave excuses, even as Loki looked increasingly distraught, because however much she hated what was unfolding in front of her, she had no say in it, and didn’t even understand a lot of the subtleties of the discussion enough to have an informed opinion. But Loki was edging closer and closer to a full breakdown - she could feel it (hell, she was herself – she could tell her skin was heating up and she hoped it wasn’t as obvious as it felt) - and she couldn’t stand there idly forever, so as soon as Odin referred to their marriage, she took that as her cue and stepped in with an excuse to leave. She might not like that they had kept secrets from him, and deep down she wanted him to let loose, but it was probably not a good idea. Better to go away and process this news for a while and come back with a clear head.

When Frigga spoke to her, smiling and pressing a golden apple into her free hand, it took years of practice dealing with Tony Stark’s PR disasters not to flinch at being addressed as ‘daughter’. She somehow managed to smile and thank the woman, and then she and Loki fled the room as fast as they could get away with.

************************

As soon as they were back in his rooms Loki collapsed into the nearest chair, head in his hands. He felt like he was falling apart. The foundations upon which he’d built his life had been knocked away, things he’d been certain of, gone. His name. His family. His _face_.

He was a monster, and not only that, but a monster that had been rejected by the others for not being good enough. What did that say about him?

He became aware of Pepper crouching next to him. “Loki?”

He didn’t respond, not wanting to face her.

“Loki. Talk to me.”

“What is there to say? I’m a monster.”

“Loki-”

He straightened, but couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He might not want to have this conversation, but it needed to happen and he may as well get it over with. “You are free to go.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You’re free to go. I release you from our agreement. There’s no point to a ruse, now that I know there is no betrothal to dodge, and I will not force you to be shackled to a monster. My- Odin and Frigga will understand why, so there won’t be any repercussions on that account, and I’ll figure out some excuse for everyone else.”

He continued staring straight ahead, unable to face her. She was interesting and beautiful and he wanted to get to know her better, and now he never would. She got to her feet.

“What if I don’t want to go?”

He looked at her now, saw her standing with her hands on her hips, staring him down, challenging.

“What?”

“You heard me. What if I don’t want to go?”

His thoughts stuttered to a halt, not sure how to process this. He hadn’t thought she’d want to _stay_. He hadn’t been sure what to expect from her reaction at all. He hadn’t been able to think straight from the moment he was told the truth. But insofar as he’d imagined her reaction, he’d not expected this. Disgust. Anger. Betrayal. Regret. Horror. All of those things at once, perhaps.

But he could see none of these in her facial expression.

“But look at me!”

He dropped the illusion. It was easy, now that he knew it was there.

Instead of saying anything, she let her own power flare, her skin glowing hotly, and then pulled him to his feet and kissed him, hard.

He forgets how to think for long moments, the contrasting temperatures preventing all thought. But eventually they both have to come up for air.

It took him a few seconds to recover, and then he opened his mouth to say something, to give her a whole list of reasons she shouldn’t want to stay.

She put a finger to his lips, forestalling his words. “I’ll tell you what, how about another deal. I stay, for a month, we get to know each other, and if I find you horribly monstrous, or whatever, I’ll ask for a divorce. Or, I find you to be the exact same man I agreed to marry, whatever the reasons that was for, and I eat this apple.”

She smirked at him, and dragged him in the direction of the bedchamber. “Until then, let’s see how much of a monster you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you go. Not quite as ambitious as the premise promised. And probably a bit of a let-down for those looking forward to a super long character-driven fic - especially as I couldn't throw in sexytimes in as a consolation as I just can't write smut for the life of me. 
> 
> But I figure it's better than nowt at all, & gives some sort of closure.

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter of this pretty much popped into my head fully written & I had to quickly get it down before it faded (Really. I've fixed a few typos & adjusted some sentence structures here & there, but it's pretty much as-is). Then it sat on my hard drive for months because I was busy with _If Anyone Falls_ , & had no real idea where I wanted it to go (beyond the basic fake-marriage-becomes-real-as-feelings-change thing, obviously). But now the other fic is finished so I don't have that excuse anymore.
> 
> Does this ship have a name at all? I can't find anything. Even the most ridiculously bonkers crackships in this fandom that nobody has even written a fic for (not while sober anyway) have names, but not this? EDIT: Seems FrostSpice is the favourite, so I'm going with that.


End file.
